


a sweetly rising thing

by leaveanote



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, Good Omens Anniversary, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Post-Episode: Good Omens: Lockdown, Post-Lockdown (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:41:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23947105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leaveanote/pseuds/leaveanote
Summary: Aziraphale hangs up from their lockdown phonecall, but somehow his empty bookshop full of pastries doesn't feel quite as warm as it did.Something must be done.(A continuation taking place after the events of the Lockdown video Neil Gaiman posted in honor of the anniversary!)
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 41
Kudos: 413
Collections: Fluffy Omens, Good Omens Lockdown fics





	a sweetly rising thing

**Author's Note:**

> That video gave me so much joy. This is the first thing that came out of my joy. I hope you enjoy! Happy Good Omens anniversary!

Aziraphale hangs up the phone, frowning. There had been a buoyant sort of glittering... _ something _ bubbling up in him as he spoke to Crowley, and now it’s all deflated, like a loaf of sourdough gone overproved. 

He glances over at his pile of pastries, suddenly seeming quite insurmountable now that he’s just resolved himself to eating them all alone. 

How ridiculous. He straightens his bowtie, goes to get the record player on. Just minutes ago his pastries had given him such a sense of satisfaction! 

Had they, though? Certainly, yes. Yes, of course!

Well, all right. To  _ some  _ extent. They’re delightfully soothing to make, and it’s been lovely to have so much time to himself, to read and bake and dance around to the sort of music  _ he  _ likes, no one around to bother about bebop or tempt him into--into--

But he had called Crowley himself, hadn’t he. There’s no way around  _ that.  _ Of course, it  _ was  _ just to check up on him, to make sure he was doing all  _ right,  _ that the balance of things was still in order, that is.

Aziraphale shook himself slightly. It’s been nearly a year since the airfield, yes, but it had been millennia of the old dynamic, and he’s still getting accustomed to the fact that the  _ balance  _ of things isn’t really a  _ thing  _ at all anymore. Nor are the “rules” he’d just thrown up between him and Crowley like a shield. Not in a Heaven and Hell sense, that is. 

_ Our side. _

Aziraphale stuffs a rather large bite of bundt cake into his mouth to distract from how pink he can feel his cheeks getting.

This is ridiculous. They could be here for  _ months  _ yet. Crowley was just being nice. (Or tempting, which was it again?) He couldn’t possibly want so much time of uninterrupted angelic company. Furthermore, he wouldn’t want to spend quite so much time in the bookshop, would he? Not that it would really be any trouble for them to pop safely into the Bentley and head out to the countryside if they really wanted some fresh air for a bit...oh, that does sound lovely. They could bring some of the baked goods! A picnic, perhaps? The sweet, fluttering something in Aziraphale’s chest turns over at the thought.

But, then, of course. Would Crowley really want  _ that  _ much uninterrupted time with him? How could his idiosyncrasies not drive him up a wall? They enjoy each other’s company, certainly, but they’ve never been together for quite so long at a stretch, and he knows he must annoy Crowley to pieces half the time. What if he bothered Crowley  _ so  _ much that after this he didn’t want to come over for ages?

That nearly does it, it does. It’s such an unappetizing thought Aziraphale tries to drop the entire matter -- except, he can’t stop the little voice in his heart that reminds him. 

Crowley offered in the first place.

Aziraphale eats his way through an entire cheesecake. It feels dry and mealy in his mouth, and he  _ knows  _ it didn’t when he first tasted it.

Aziraphale swallows, hard. It really should just be a thing humans are grappling with, but he can’t help but feel that when times are this fraught and dangerous, one really ought not to hesitate to ask for what one wants, right? Seize the day and all? 

_ Our side. _

“Enough of this,” he says aloud, his voice sounding oddly loud in the empty shop.

He picks up his phone again before he can think his way back out of it. 

Crowley picks up on the second ring.

“You all right?” he asks. His voice is edged in concern at Aziraphale calling again so soon, and Aziraphale feels his entire being brim with a rush of scrumptious,  _ embarrassingly  _ sweet tenderness. Oh, heav--oh, someone. Oh--

“Crowley.”

“Yeah, angel?”

“Make it the Montepulciano, please? The, er. The case. And a white as well, if you would. You pick that one out, but do make sure it goes well with sponge cake, I think I’ll do that one next.”

Aziraphale can actually  _ hear  _ him smiling through the phone. 

“You’ve got it, angel. Anything else?”

Aziraphale bites his lip (he’s smiling too). Well, in for a penny.

“If it’s not too much trouble--how about a picnic basket?”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! i hope you liked it <3  
> check out my other fics here and talk to me about ineffable kisses on tumblr @ [letmetemptyou](https://letmetemptyou.tumblr.com/)
> 
> edit: mind the tags, but the explicit, nsfw followup to this fic is [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24061762), if you're interested! <3  
> [quite a bit to look forward to](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24061762)


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